Untitled

Mataura Ensign, 17 January 1914, Page 2

THE IMPRACTICAL MAN.

By Elliott Flower in 'The Century.' ''l am sorry to inform you," said Shackelford, the lawyer, "that you j have been to some trouble and expense to secure a bit of worthless paper. This I —" and he held up the document he j had been examining—' 'is about as valuable as a copy of a last week's newspaper." It is possible that Shackelford really legretted the necessity of conveying this unpleasant information to Peter J. Connorton, Cyrus Talbot, and Samuel D. Peyton; but, if so, his looks belied him, for he smiled very much as if he found something gratifying in the situation. ■Connorton was the first to recover from the shock. "Then it's a swindle!" he declared) hotly. "We'll get that fellow Hartley I He's a crook!" We'll make him—" "Oh, no," interrupted Shackelford, quietly, "it's no swindle. According to your own story, you prepared the paper yourself and paid him for his signature to it." • | "We paid him. twenty-five thousand dollars for his patent," asserted Connorton. j "But you didn't get the patent," returned Shackelford. "He has assigned to you, for a consideration of twentyfive thousand dollars, all his rights, title and interest in something or other, but the assignment doesn't clearly show what. There are a thousand things that it might be, but nothing that it definitely and positively is. Very likely ho doesn't know this, but very likely somebody will tell him. Anyhow, you're got to get a clear and unquestioned title before you can do anything with the patent without danger of unpleasant consequences." Deeper gloom settled upon the, faces of the three, and especially upon the face of Connorton, who was primarily responsible for their present predicament. "What would you advise?" asked Connorton at last. "Well," returned the lawyer after a moment of thought, "you'd better find him. As near as I can make out, he had no thought of tricking you." "Oh, no, I don't believe he had," confessed Connorton. "I spoke hastily when I charged that. He's too impractical for anything of the sort." "Much too impractical, I should say, ackeu Talbot, and Pevton nodded approval. " "In that case," pursued the lawyer, you can still clinch the deal easily and j quickly—if you get to him first. I see I nothing particularly disturbing in the situation, except the possibility that somebody who is practical may get hold or him before you do, or that he may learn in some other way of the value 'if his invention. Do you know where he lsr "No," answered Connorton. "That's mo trouble." "Not so troublesome as it might be " returned the lawyer. "He is not try■ing vo hide, if we are correct in our surmise, and his eccentricities of dress and deportment would attract attention to him anywhere. I have a voune man, hern m the office who will set

track of him in no time, if you have nothing totter to suggest." They had nothing better to suggest, so Myron Paulson was called in, given a description of Ira Hartley, together with such information as to hia associates and haunts as it was possible to give, and sent in quest of news of him. "Meanwhile," observed the lawyer, "I'll prepare something for his signature, when we find him, that will have j no loopholes in it."

Ira Hartley, as the lawyer had said,' ] was not a hard man to trace. He was, ] tall and slim, wore a flaring bow tie, a I < wide-brimmed slouch hat, clothes that! { hung loosely upon his spare frame, and \ i .smoked cigarettes in a long reed holder, j Add to that some eccentricities of man-; ] ner and speech, and it will be readily;, apparent that he was not likely to be j \ forgotten by those he encountered. |, Paulson learned in brief time that he: had gone to Detroit. No one knew for j, what purpose, whether he intended to! . remain there or go elsewhere, or, in fact, anything about it, except the bare ■ fact that he had left for Detroit. Certain of his acquaintances understood' that it was in connection with some great and long-cherished plan that was suddenly made financially possible; but \ they had no idea of the nature of the I plan. j Paulson, of course, would follow at once, and Connorton regretfully decided to go with him. Connorton, be- ! ing large and slow, fond of ease and of good things to eat. disliked to have the routine of his Lire disturbed; but he j blamed himself for their very unpleas- \ ant predicament,- and, aside from his i own financial interest in the affair, he ' was desirous_ to do everything possible to protect his associates and secure to them the promised profit. Besides, he knew Hartley, and Paulson did not; so! it might easily happen that his pre- j : sence would be helpful, if not absolutely j ' necessary, when the inventor should be overtaken. , The lawyer prepared the necessary ; papers, as far as he could with the information at hand; but he was not altogether satisfied. The inventor alone could supply some minor points that he ;v-ould like to incorporate in them; so ■he suggested that they bring Hartley ■ back if possible. j "If you can't do that," he instructed, "get his signature, properly witnessed and acknowledged, to tho assign- . ment of patent, and let it go at that. ; I could clinch it a little tighter if I ! could have a talk with him, but it isn't | really necessary." ] "Suppose something should happen to him before we get it?" suggested \ Connorton. "You'd lose the patent," returned i the lawyer calmly. " title to that still rests in him, and it would naturally go to his heirs if anything should happen to him before it is legally transferred ; to you.'.' "Guardian to a lost lunatic!" grumbled Connorton. "A nice job!" Still grumbling, he left with Paulson ! for Detroit. He had no idea of acting i.i any other than an advisory capacity I during the search of couise. He was i on hand to take charge of the negotia- , tions at the proper time; but until that time should arrive he purposed remaini ing in some convenient hotel while Paulson did the scouting. Fortunately, owing to the inventor's striking personality, Paulson's task was not difficult. "Gone to Toronto," was the report he made to Connorton a few hours after their arrival at Detroit. "Stopped at the Cadillac, but left there yesterday." "Sure it was Hartley?" queried Connorton. I "No doubt about it," replied PaulLeon. "Everybody remembers him, for [he hired a cab, put the cabby insi-Jv >; and did the driving himself—said he i wanted to see something of the town." i; "That was Hartley, all right," Con- .: norton admitted, dislodging himself re- - gretfully from the comfortable lobby i chair he was occupying, "and I suppose '' we'll have to hustle along after him. 1 ; don't see why he has to be so infernally ■ ; restless, though." I! Again, at Toronto, Connorton had : | reason to complain of Hartby's rest- ;; lessness. His name was on the register . o; the King Edward Hotel when they i arrived there; but he had lingered no longer than in Detroit, and they were : still a day behind him. 6 "Sure it was our Hartley?" asked , Connorton. j | "No doubt about it," Paulson re- : plied. "He showed up here with a dun- , nage bag instead of a trunk, and they ' took him for an immigrant and wf re i. going to throw him out." I "Must be our man," agreed Coii-or- , ton. "That's just the kind of fool! ■ ' thing he'd do." | "Made eome trouble at the bar,"! .added Paulson, "by insisting that they i . should put the seltzer and lemon-peel I in his: highball glass first and add the whisky afterward)—said it improved the flavor to have a highball made, that - way." "That's Hartley," asserted Oonnori ton, posi tievly. "Where did he go from • here?" •I "North Bay." ij "Where's that?" > "About two hundred and fifty miles i, due north." i, Connorton became suddenly perturbed, not to say excited. "Great i Scott.'!'he exclaimed, "he's heading for !' the wilderness!" I Connorton was sufficiently troubled ■ | now to forgeti temporarily his lore of ! ease. He could imagine nothing that I: would take Hartley to that region exicept some crazy hunting or mining i scheme, both of which had elements of I danger. Wherefore they must follow >: quickly, no matter how unpleasant the otulook. But Hartley was not at North Bay, ' i and had not stopped there. That was ■ \ easily for it was not so large a ! place that a man of his personality I;could possibly escape observation. Ij "More uncertain than a flea!" gruml bled Connorton. "Probably dropped off . somewhere down the line." II "Or went on up the line," suggested > Paulßon. "Perhaps the ticket-man will » know." ;. The ticket-man did. They would have I; saved time if they had asked' him in ;! the first place instead of making their j inquiries at the hotel. >i "Sure I saw that sombrero-covered ! toothpick," saidi the ticket-man. "He > j asked me if this was the open season 1 1 for Indians and' moose." j "That's Hartley," sighed' Connorton. • "He's as likely to shoot one as the ', other. What did he do then ?"

"Bought a mackinaw that would dazzle your eyes and a ticket to Temagami and) went on with the train—said the Tndions wptp- ton tntno for renl stx>rt

here. I couldn't see what ha wanted of a mackiuaw in summer, but lie said he liked the color scheme." "Where's Teniagami?" asked Connorton. "Temagami Forest Reserv,." "I knew it," groaned Uon.iorton. "Headed for the wilderness'. ' Ira Hartley lay stretched in front of a camp-fire on the shore of Lake Wausauksinagami. It had been necessary to cover two portages and three lakes to reach this spot; but it certainly gave him the seclusion that he sought. No human habitation marred the shore-line of the lake, although another campfire, seen faintly botween two of the many islands, showed l that he was not in sole possession. The other camp, however, was several miles away, so he waa quite alone, except for Joe Lightfoot, his Indian guide; and) supreme content was reflected in face and pose. True, b.e had not caught many fish, owing to his own inexpertness with rod and line rather than to any lack of fish to be caught; but this was a matter of indifference to him. He had promised himself this outing long before. Ho had no particular reason for wanting it, except that he had beard so much of the joys of life in the open that he had resolved to try if) as soon as opportunity offered; but that was enough for one of his whimsically impulsive nature, and an increasing desire to try it had influenced him to some extent in closing with Connorton in the matter of his invention. He liked to be alone; and surely one could ask for nothing better in such circumstances than an Indian guide who spoke tersely when he spoke at all. The Indian, having cleaned up after supper, squatted with his pipe a little distance from the fire. Back of him | was the shelter-tent under which Harti ley slept, and back of that lay the i forest. On the other side of the fire I the lake shimmered in the moonlight and the water rippled' soothingly on the shore. So restfully beautiful was the scene that it affected the spirits of both white man andl red, and they smoked l in silence for some time. "Joe," remarked Hartley at last, "this fosters a tranquillity that inakej me think I'd like to live here all the time. I've never seen or felt anything just like it." A part of this comment was beyond Joe, but he caught the main idea. "Spoil quick," he suggested. "Yes, that's true, too," admitted Hartley. "The white man certainly does spoil nature wherever he settles. I suppose I'd build, a cabin first, which wouldn't be so bad; then I'd think I had to have a bungalow, which would bo crowding things a little; next I'd want a two-storey house and a steamlaunch, and after that I'd put in a telephone and move back to the city. Yes, you're right, Joe; no white man could settle here without spoiling it. But it just suits my humor now. If anybody comes to disturb us, Joe, do me the favor of throwing him into the lake." Joe, being a man of few words, merely grinned; but a. moment later he held up his hand for silence. "Canoe coming," he announced. "Nonsense!" returned 1 Hartley, after vainly trying to catch some sound other than that of the rippling water and th« rusling leaves. "Canoe coming," repeated. Joe, positively. [ A few minutes later even Hartley's i ears oaught the swish of a paddle; and ■far out on the lake a black spot could be seen in the silvery path of the moonlight on the water. "You're right, Joe, as usual," hj« . conceded; "but," he added whimsically, "don't forget your duty—into the , water he goes! I will not be dis- ' turbedf!" In brief time a canoe, containing . threa men and a larger stock of sup , plies than Connorton had' thought i 1 , | possible to get into so small a space. I shot plainly into view. Connorton) him- . self, anxious and uncomfortable, occupied a position on some boxes andl bajf i amidships; Paulson was in the bow, anc . the guide, Jim Eedfeather, was in the . stern. . I A shelving rock, which ended abrupt- , ly in deep water a few feet from shore i offered the best landing-place for a I heavily-laden canoe, and the Indiau I brought it alongside that point. Hartley sauntered wearily down tc . meet his unexpected and unwelcome . guests. ■ "My goodness, Hartley!" exclaimed , Connorton the moment he saw the inventor, "I'm glad we've found you at last! We've had a devil of a time doing it." "If it was so dliffificult," murmured | Hartley, "why didn't you give it up?" i "Too important," replied Connorton. I "Help me out, and I'll tell you about i it. I'm pretty near done up." , With some difficulty the Urge man i was transferred from the canoe to the rock, and to one who knew him in" tht . city he was certainly an extraordinary spectacle. He was dirty, dishevelled, and badly sunburned, having acquired dirt on the portages and blisters on the water. Moreover, the khaki suit thai , he wore was too small, the derby hai seemed sadly out of place, and his posi- . tion in the canoe had so cramped hire ; that he walked like a cripple. . "Had to sleep under the stars lasl night," he complained, after introducing Paulson. "Thought we'd locate yoi > the first day, but you'd gone furthei ; than we expected. Never had such ai . experience! But that fire looks gooe r to me," he added. "Let's get next U • it and come down to business." r Hartley laid a detaining hand on hii > arm. "I'm not in the humor for busi ness to-night," he objected. "Let ui p look out over: the moonlit lake " , "Damn the lake!" exploded Connor i ton. "I've had enough of it. Let's ge r down to business. It will take but ; few minutes to explain- " "To-morrow," insisted Hartley. "; f may be in the humor for business to morrow; but to-night I must insist—' [ Now, whether Joe had taken Hart [ ley's whimsical instructions to "throv him into the lake" seriously or not nil > never be known, for the Indian is no L loquacious; but it is a fact that, as . sisting in unloading the canoe, hi Bumped into Connorton at this momen [ and Connorton, being close to the outc > edge of the shelving rock, went back t ward into the water with a loud splash He came up spluttering and flounder ing like an animated bag of meal, am ,! Hartley and Paulson pulled him bad : on the rock. Then they rushed hirm t< . | the fire. i ! "Got a change of r-lothin<r, IT- Con- , norton?" asked Hartley, solicitously. : "Change of clothing!" sputtered Con

1 norton. "Change of clotliing here!'. 1 Why don't you ask mo if I've got a J dress suit?" -! "Too bad!" commented Hartley. ''l : haven't anything extra either, and it. 1 !wouldn't lit y;u if I had. But you'll; . 'be all,right in a blanket, I guess. Just i ! get those wet vlothcs off now." i ', Connorton objected. His undraped I figure was something to cause laughter < ■'■ rather than command respect, and ho ' ■ had no desire to make any more of a >; spectacle of himself than lie was- al- >; ready. But Hartley was insistent, I'aul- >: son urged, and the combination of wet ) | clothing and chill night air made him • shiver. So he presently found himself > posing under protest as a large and ; rather flabby cherub. , I It was not dignified. Even when s! Hartley draped a, blanket over him it . was not dignified. He was quite sure j the apparently stolid Indians were . chuckling inwardly, and he distinctly , heard Joe refer to him as Bi's Splash. 1 If ho had only known it, Joe had thus • i christened him and always thereafter f thus referred to him. He did not know I it. but, even so, it would have delight--3 ed his soul to take an. axe to Joe. Never before had he had so murderous f an impulse. II There could now be no serious discus- . i sion of business before morning, of r | course. A large, fleshy man, attired in . i nothing but a blanket, is not exactly t! in a situation to talk business to ad- , vantage. He is too much of a joke. r , Hartley frankly treated 'him as a joke,' .! although Paulson was respectful and i ' sympathetic. J j "I am sure," said Hartley, "that you n will feel better to-morrow for your I bath to-night. Just stick your little ~' pint tootsies up to the fire——" ; a "Shut up!" exploded Connorton. I „ "Oh, that's no way to talk to your. ;_ host," complained Hartley. "It has I e a tendency to make a man l peevish; and' 6 you don't want me to be peevish, do' t lyou?" 0 j Connorton did not; and he realised e I that it would be the part of wisdom to f , hold his temper in check. "I beg your „ i pardon, Hartley." he said. "Its not your fault, of course, but I've endured j such unspeakable horrors during the i j last few daya that my nerves are all' g on edge." | x "That's better," commended Hart-' " ley. "You shall have a nice highball' j for that- and then we'll tuck you in ' your little bed and sing you to sleep." j Big Splash, as Joe called him, was „ awakened in the morning by the sound of a big splash, and ho. shuddered. It 1° made him. think of the great splash of 1 the night before. Looking out from unj der the canvas, however, he discovered j j j that this splash was made by Hartley, ! _ who was enjoying an early swim. j ,_] Connorton's clothes, still damp, hunt; ; from the branch of a tree near at hand, j but he did not wait to put them on. L t Ho recalled the fact that he had a. very .„ ; deep and special interest in the life (if 6 ; Hartley, and Hartley was recklessly e ; splashing about beyond the end of the i shelving rock, where the water was ,_ I deep. Wherefore, wrapping his blanket j the rock and pleaded with the inventor ;to come out. J "What for?" asked Hartley. I "You might drown," replied Connor- ' 'ton. "I can't swim, so I couldn't help ;you." j_l "Bosh!" returned Hartley. "This is I fine! Beter come in yourself and get s freshened up for the day." ; j! But Connorton would not, and neij ther would he abandon his station on ! i the rock, even to dress 4 until Hartley i I came out. He could at least summon i the guides to the rescue if the fool-. i ; hardy man should be in; danger. So he h "jstood there, looking more like a dis-i i tressed Indian squaw than a white man,' until Hartley left the water. j I "Ha needs me," reflected Hartley;' £'"he needs me very, very much! Else > t ! why this anxiety for my safety? And," j | he added whimsically, "I can see much' ' ! sport ahead, whatever his purpose may j ;!>•" I rg | Connorton did not lose much! time in' ■>' throwing light—at least some light—upon this purpose. I "I want yon to go back with me at . ' once—to-day," he said when they were ~ | at breakfast. 'j "Ohj you want me to go back with * you," repeated Hartley. "Why?" n I "Well, there's a little something I wronpj with the assignment of patent." | explained Connorton, "and I want to iget it fixed up." ~ I "Couldn't that wait until' I ro~jturned?" asked Hartley. ■7 "Why, yes, it could," admitted Con- " ! norton, "but there was a risk. If anyI thing happened to you, you know, it' , i might he serious." \ „ j "Yes," agreed Hartley, "it would be j I serious." I '; | "To us, I mean," explained Connor- • ; ton. i I "Oh, to you!" commented' Hartley, j "'"Why not to me?" 'I "Why, it would naturally be serious j ' 'to you, of course," returned Connor- I , y jton; "but that's your own lookout."! h I "True, quite true," rejoined Hartley. | *7|"But this is business 4 you know," he ', | added, "and I never discuss business in i the morning. It'makes me nervous." j j "Oh, thunder!" expostulated Connor-j i ten- i m j "Really quite nervous, I assure you," : . i insisted Hartley. "I'm hardly respons-; 1_ : ible for what I do when I'm annoyed j °~ ' that way." i "*; "Now, look here," urged Connorton ! 'x —just as soon as we can get ready—- ~ and I'll give you five hundred to co j 60 i with me." _ " i . 1 "But this is morning," objoctod ! ."Hartley, "and I never discuss business , in the morning." ' I 18 j "A thousand," added Connorton. 1 "Makes me nervous—quite irresponsr" ible," murmured Hartley, rising. B * i Very deliberately he walked down to a ;the shelving, rock, across it, and , T : stepped, clothes and all, into 10 fwt 1 I of water. "Help! Help I" screamed Connorton, ■ I rushing to the rock. "Save him!" i The two guides and Paulson came '." ; down and tried to pull the inventor 111 out, but he objected. ™ i "Take him away!" he gurgled, as bis "" j head bobbed up out of the water and 16 . almost immediately disappeared again nt l "Save him! Save him!" cried Connorton, frantically jumping up and ~' I down on the rock. h - 1 "Big Splash make crazy man!" comr" monted Joe. 'jj ' "Better this than him!" gurgled •K Hartley, cr.m-r.g up again. "Take him c " away!" 1 Joe unemotionally prodded Connor--1" ton in the stomach, whereupon that gentleman grunted, doubled over and Joe prodded him again

and again, thus driving him back to the tent. Thon Hartley permitted himself to bo pulled out of the water; but it was some time before he would let Connorton come near him. "You seo what you've done!" ho said reproachfully when he finally did consent to resume intercourse with hia visitor. "I warned you, too. Now we can't talk business before to-morrow.'A "Oh, cornel" expostulated Connorton. "Not until to-morrow," insisted Hartley. "You've got me all upselfai. to-day." F Connorton hesitated; but ho was desperate now, so at last he drew from *is pocket the assignment of patent, somewhat blurred by contact with the water. Even if the notarial seal wero lacking it would make things a little safer 3 he could get that signed. "Just put your name to that," he urged, "and I won't say another word about business until to-morrow." Hartley's only reply was to start again for the lake. "Come back! Come back!" cried Connorton. "I won't mention busine&a again to-day." Hartley returned and stretched himself out in the sua to let his olothea dry. "We'll stay in camp to-day?" suggested Connorton, hopefully. "Wouldn't do at all!" replied Hartley. "We must fish, if only as an excuse for coming." Pursuant to this idea, Hartley presently set out with Joe. Connorton, after a little hesitation, followed- with the other guide, leaving Paulson in camp. Connorton felt that he could not rest easy unless he had this recklew I man directly "under bis observation all 1 the time; and the reckless man was not unmindful of this espionage, I "Joe," said the reckless man, i.-hen. ■he saw that Connorton was following, ' "we won/t do much fishing to-day, but we'll have some sport, just the same. The fish aro hero all the time, but Connorton isn't. And Connorton, Joe, is afraid something is going to happen, to me. That being the case, let us enjoy, I ourselves! Let us lead him afar 1 on I land and sea, and tramp him over portI ages, and make him miss his dinner, I and give hiui a real good time generally. Of course, Joe, it is downright i cruel to make a man like Connortoa miss a meal, but let u» be downright cruel! Proceed, Joe!" Joe proceeded, and that he acted up to his instructions was proved by the many and bitter things tnat Connorton said about "tkat crazy inventor" in. the course of the day—tho hardest day of his life, he afterwards asserted. But Hartley was not satisfied. "I think, Joe," he complained, as they were retarding to camp in the late afternooM, "that this is beginning to pall a littlo on Big Splash. Too much work and too little excitement. He needs a thrill, Joe, to revive his Jntercst in the proceedings. Let us giv» him the thrill. Let us alarm him. I<et us make him think that he is going to lose little 'Willie, the human prize! I have several thrills in mind, Joe, hut let us begin mildly. Will you oblice me by rocking the boat, so to speakP Not too much, you know, for I have no wish to go! into the drink again, and that's what would probably happen if I '.•■'w(\ to do it mvself." Joe replied with a grunt, as usual; but presently the canoe began to take a most erratic oourse and to betray ; alarming symptoms of crankiness. The Indian seemed to be doing his utmost ! to steady it, amd several timeß pre.venfc- , ed an vpsei \j throwing his weight in inst the rieMt direction; but the mora ie strove A* worse it rocked. h Connortom was frantic. He lost Jhis j head completely as he saw the apparent | danger ol Hartley, and screamed! and I shouted and swore as his own guide i paddled up, to be on hand in case they capsized. | "Make bim go splash once more?" : suggested Jo«, aa the other canoe caina sear. I "No," Mtarned Hartley, magnanimously. "He mas had his bath, and we will not Ve se cruel as to insist upon another j»st now." (To be concluded next Wednesday.)